living a lonely life

living a lonely life,
good partners hard to find,
holding a needle in my hand,
my hands rowing simulteneously behind my back,
sewing my broken wings.
tears welling in my eyes,
fake pastors lost keys to heaven,
devil's clock tick tock,
Christ coming on May the twenty first,
dead men's food makes me sick.
before tombstones i wont kneel,
Fereirra died a police man,
on his grave italian car's name,
Ferari,
is written in bold letters.